


Flying high the Lambert way

by Annvian



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Lambert (The Witcher), Consensual Non-Consent, Dom Eskel (The Witcher), Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Face Slapping, Fighting Kink, Heavy BDSM, Impact Play, M/M, Masochist Lambert (The Witcher), Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Play Fighting, Rope Bondage, Sub Lambert (The Witcher), Threesome - M/M/M, Top Eskel (The Witcher), Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28028277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annvian/pseuds/Annvian
Summary: Lambert gasped as he recognised the dark leather collar.Tears welled in his eyes. He got it years ago as a gift from Eskel and Geralt and he linked it to safety, sanity and love.The collar laid in front of him as an offer, but he was free to choose if he wanted to use it or not. His brethren wouldn’t mind his choice. They would care for him either way. Soft and cuddly without the leather bond or– Lambert shivered blissfully. Or the other way.After every harsh season on the Path the Witchers of the Wolf School come home to find some peace and quiet.It's also a time to drop their guard and simply enjoy their time together.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Coming home

**Author's Note:**

> All the Wolves make their appearances, but Lambert is the main character, so to speak.
> 
> Enjoy. :-)
> 
> I'd like to clarify that BDSM isn't the same as violence, but I tagged this warning anyway, so nobody reads something they don't wanna read.

The trek through the Blue Mountains was murderous as always. It was cold, the snow was deep and the already setting sun damped Lambert’s mood additionally.

He hated the winter in general and winter in Kaedwen was the worst. This year the hike up the mountain was especially brutal because he was fucking late. Because he wasted his time hunting too far south and miscalculated the time for the way home.

Behind him the donkey hew-hawed piteously.

And because he had to stop to buy more supplies for the winter.

“Shut up, idiot. You’ll kill us with your bleating.”

Lambert stopped his trail and eyed the surrounding mountains suspiciously, but there was no indication of an avalanche.

After a few minutes the witcher felt restless and an unpleasant itch under his skin bubbled up from deep inside his stomach. I couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to get home to the warmth, the food and most importantly to his brothers.

He sighed, pulled the reins and stomped through the deep snow.

“Come on now, we are running late and I won’t miss Vesemir’s hearty stew because of you. I can almost smell it.”

The donkey only hew-hawed again but followed the witcher unresisting.

\-------

Vesemir stared out of the kitchen window with furrowed brows. Where was Lambert?

Most years their youngest was the first to arrive at the keep, but this year Eskel and even Geralt got here before him.

At first they only shrugged when they noticed, but after a few days they felt uneasy and were inattentive during training. Winter was their time to rest, exercise and most of all to care for each other.

Vesemir observed the courtyard and waited for the portal to be pushed open by their youngest. Behind him Eskel silently skinned the hares he hunted today for a stew and Geralt paced the kitchen impatiently.

“You said you saw him. Where is he?” Geralt growled.

“I did not say such thing. I said I spotted _someone_ on the trail and I believed it were Lambert. Who else should come up here?”

Earlier that day the older witcher had seen somebody with a pony or donkey and a cart behind fighting their way up the trail to the crumbling keep.

Geralt just snorted.

“Calm down, wolf.” Eskel’s quiet voice rumbled through the kitchen. He didn’t pause his action and started cutting the meat. “You are talking about Lambert. He’s all right and–“

The grating outer portal interrupted them and all three men froze and cocked their heads to listen carefully.

“Somebody home? Nobody here welcoming their beloved Lambert? Vesemir? Idiots?”

Eskel dropped the knife and he and Geralt ran out of the kitchen, raced through the dining hall, the entrance hall and into the courtyard all the while they squabbled with one another who may greet Lambert first.

They all but crashed into their younger brother in arms and in an instant they were sniffing him, kissing his face, his neck, everything within reach.

“Alright, yeah, calm down, you two.” Lambert grumbled and tried to shove them away, but it was a weak attempt and soon he stopped pretending his annoyance. He bathed in their scents and caresses and hoped it won’t ever stop.

“We missed you and the Path was lonely.” Eskel’s voice rumbled against Lambert’s back. “Geralt acted like mama wolf waiting for her pup to return to the den; pacing through the keep, snarling at everybody and too jittery to relax.”

Geralt glowered at Eskel who grinned broadly.

Lambert loved the tightness of their embrace but eventually tried to wiggle free of it.

“Yeah, then come on, mama wolf. Stop squashing mentioned pup. You can take care of it later. I’m hungry and I’m filthy.”

„Don’t care.“

Lambert’s stomach gnarled loudly. Huffing Geralt released the younger man.

“All right, then. We bother with the supplies, you go inside. Vesemir awaits you in the kitchen.” Eskel said with a final kiss to Lambert’s neck.

Lambert stomped through the courtyard and spoke across his shoulder.

“And don’t forget to groom Geralt.”

The silence which followed caused Lambert to turn around. Both witchers just blinked in confusion. Lambert smirked.

“The donkey.”

“The donkey’s name is Geralt?” Eskel’s mouth twisted into a grin. Geralt looked stony-faced.

“’Cause, you know, he’s an ass.” Lambert shrugged with a smug smile. Eskel’s belly laugh and Geralt’s murderous look followed him inside.

\----------

Vesemir welcomed Lambert with a tight embrace and a tankard with ale. They prepared the dinner together – means Vesemir was cooking and Lambert, sitting on a bench far away from the hearth and the actual cooking, was talking about his year on the Path. It was a more or less average year but in the warmer south so the young witcher hadn’t met one of his brethren since last winter.

No sooner had he finished his report than Geralt and Eskel entered the kitchen. Geralt sat down right next to Lambert, Eskel towards the youngest member of the School of the Wolf and Vesemir at the end of the table.

They enjoyed the stew with tankards of ale and Geralt’s and Eskel’s stories of their hunting season. Geralt told them about a human bard with a demanding personality who was ridiculously young and had decided to follow the witcher. But nonetheless how annoyed Geralt told them he would be, he obviously allowed the lad to follow him in search of heroics and adventures.

The other witchers changed knowing looks since Geralt spoke almost fond of the human. But they dared to say anything out loud.

The later the evening the more gentle touches brushed by Lambert’s back, arms or thighs.

Vesemir stood and announced he was retreating to his chamber for the night. With that and an exaggerated eye roll as he perceived his pups’ heated gazes upon each other he left the remaining three witchers.

Eskel fanned himself and grinned at Lambert. “Now, you go take a bath in your room – we already brought a tub and water up there some hours ago – and leave tidying up the kitchen to us.”

He shuffled even closer to the other man, put a broad hand upon the small of his back and nibbled at Lambert’s earlobe. The reaction was an instant shudder and a low moan.

From the other side Geralt leaned against Lambert and stroked yearning his thigh right next to his groin. “Mhm. Let us take care of you tonight.” The white-haired witcher rasped.

Lambert nodded eagerly and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He coughed slightly.

“And if– if I want more than your care. If I– mh, _need_ something else?” He sounded shy and so not like Lambert; it was adorable in Geralt’s opinion.

Geralt smiled warmly, cupped Lambert’s jaw and turned his head so they looked each other in the eyes.

“Pet, you will get everything you need from us. You know that, don’t you?”

Lambert nodded and Geralt kissed him tenderly.

“Fine. Then do as Eskel said and we will await you in my room later. Join us whenever you’re ready.” And with a swat to his bottom Lambert was free to go.

\----------

In his chamber Lambert found not just the promised tub filled with water but also a towel, soap and on top– He gasped as he recognised the dark leather collar.

Tears welled in his eyes. He got it years ago as a gift from Eskel and Geralt and he linked it to safety, sanity and love.

The collar laid in front of him as an offer, but he was free to choose if he wanted to use it or not. His brethren wouldn’t mind his choice. They would care for him either way. Soft and cuddly without the leather bond or–

Lambert shivered blissfully. _Or the other way_. He already made that choice hours, days, _months_ ago. He was desperate for their rigorous and relentless attention.

He undressed, heated the water with Igni, grabbed the soap and hopped _humming_ into the tub.

Once he scrubbed the sweat and dirt of the road off, he soaked a while in the warm water. Just as the witcher got sleepy he hurried to leave the tub.

He dried himself off and looked down at the smooth leather collar almost reverently. In the front there was a small metal ring and in the back was a buckle. Inside someone had branded it with his name.

Smiling he stroked with his fingertips over the word – _Lambert_ – and eventually wrapped the collar around his neck. He sighed relieved. It still fitted perfectly.

He dressed in a soft shirt and breeches and didn’t bother with his boots.

Barefoot he made his way through the keep to Geralt’s room.


	2. Defining rules

Lambert knocked and entered after Geralt invited him in.

The two older wolves were sitting on the massive bed, casually leaning against the headboard. Eskel read a book and Geralt had his eyes closed and dozed. It was warm, the fireplace was lit and they both were just wearing their smallclothes. There was the faint smell of arousal in the air.

Right in front of the fire was a fluffy fur and next to it stood a closed chest.

Geralt opened his eyes as soon as Lambert came to the bed frame and waited there silently with his chin raised proudly and showing his collar.

There was something hot and dangerous in Geralt’s eyes. His gaze darkened at the sight of the leather ribbon around Lambert's neck.

„You look well.” He said and the younger witcher smiled.

„Good evening, Sir. How do you want me?”

Straight to business then, as always. Geralt smirked; Eskel didn’t show that he even noticed their brother and turned a page in his book.

Geralt got up and strolled to Lambert. Now the latter could see the red love bites on the neck of the other. So they couldn’t resist each other while they were waiting for him to join them.

“Why the dreamy expression?” Geralt asked amused. “You are so very eager, mh?”

He cupped Lambert’s stubbly jaw and stroked it once. Lambert couldn’t hold back a whimper.

From the bed came the sound of a book being shut and Eskel finally looked at them both.

When Lambert didn’t say anything, Eskel encouraged him. “Answer him.”

“Yeah, I ‘m.” Came the hoarse response.

“Alright. Come, sit.” They made themselves comfortable on the bed; Eskel crawled behind Lambert and lazily scratched his scalp with one hand while Geralt petted his thigh. Lambert melted into the touches contentedly.

“Before anything happens, our rules. Assuming that one of us couldn’t remember them properly or wants to change anything, we recap them.” Geralt waited until Lambert and Eskel both nodded.

“There were two safewords holding true for the three of us. What were these words again, Lambert?”

Lambert shifted his weight so that he was now leaning against the broad chest behind him. “ _White Gull_ to stop and reassure and _Moon Dust_ to stop completely.”

“Good. Remember they are not only some kind of accessory. Use them if you need to. We trust you with this and you can count on us. You don’t need to feel ashamed for saying the words. We will do the same if necessary.” Geralt waited until Lambert nodded.

“Next rule regards how to address each other. As soon as we conclude this talk and until we stop the scene Eskel and I will call you whatever we like except your name. You will address us as _Sir_ and only as such.”

Lambert felt his heartbeat quicken at these words and he knew the other two could hear it, too. Not only became his mind excited but suddenly also his cock twitched very interested. Geralt’s nostrils flared and Lambert heard a small sniffing noise next to his ear.

Right. So they sensed _that_ , too. No secrets between witchers on that front.

Geralt’s golden gaze roamed hungrily over the body in front of him.

“Anything to say to that, Lamb?” Eskel chose the pet name, not in play but neither completely out of it. His hand came to rest on Lambert’s chest and stroked encouragingly.

The other man croaked. “No. It’s fine. Perfectly fine.”

Eskel smirked at that highly understated answer and silently nodded to Geralt to continue.

“Good. That’s what we want.” The white-haired witcher smiled.

“Third rule is about control. As always when the three of us are together this way Eskel and I are in charge. You can ask – or rather beg–“ Lambert made a tiny gasping sound at that. “ –for everything you like, but we have the final say. Agreed?”

Lambert nodded frantically. Geralt chuckled in a low voice.

Then he locked eyes with Eskel. “What did I forget?”

Eskel cleared his throat. “Only two more things. We will give you no permanent injuries unless you are explicitly requesting it.”

“Alright, I understand.” Lambert became slightly impatient with all the talking. He tried to wiggle free, but Eskel’s grip around his chest tightened and he stopped his attempt.

“I said _two_ things, Lamb. It’s important to speak about everything beforehand.” Eskel said with a stern voice.

Lambert huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, I know. What was the last thing?”

Eskel’s grip relaxed again. “I think you know exactly what this last rule is about.”

Lambert literally heard the mischief in this.

He mumbled the answer blushing deeply.

Eskel nudged him under the chin. “What was that again?”

Lambert sighed and finally answered avoiding eye contact. “No use of the Signs against people.”

Geralt grinned. “Exactly. And why is that a rule? Please remind us.”

The younger man wound between Eskel’s arms. Finally he puffed his breath annoyed.

“Because using Igni to free yourself from rope isn’t the best idea if you don’t want yourself or the furniture under your ass burning fucking hot.” Now even the tips of his ears were bright red. Eskel and Geralt chuckled.

“Technically I wasn’t using the Sign against a person, you know.”

“Anyway. And yet you almost burnt yourself. And my bed. So no Signs.”

Lambert rolled his eyes again. “It was nine years ago. Any chance you’ll ever forget about it?”

“No. Now.” Geralt grabbed both thighs in front of him firmly and had an expression in his eyes as if he was about to savage Lambert in an instant. “Any last wishes?”

The other’s heartbeat sped up. He opened his mouth, shut it again and took a deep breath.

“Um– I– mh –“

“Out with it!” Demanded Eskel.

“Actually, yeah. I want–“ He corrected himself. „I would like you to not stop until I say one of our words. Please.” He held his breath waiting for their answer.

Eskel and Geralt changed a questioning look and Eskel finally spoke.

“Lamb. Are you sure? It’s been a while since we fucked last and an even longer while since we did it _that_ way. Maybe we should–“

“I trust you both. And I’m sure. Please. I want it.” He writhed in Eskel’s arms until he was face-to-face with him and kissed him hungrily. Then he turned to Geralt and did the same with him.

“Please, don’t stop when I say _no_ or _stop_ or something like that. Please, do whatever you want with me. Assault me, ravish me to your hearts’ content.”

The other men had a silent talk exchanging only glances.

Eventually they both nodded.

“Anything else?”

Lambert shook his head. Geralt stroked his neck and kissed him again. His grip tightened, just a little. But it changed the mood entirely.

Then his hand fell back to the bed and he locked eyes with the young wolf while Eskel loosened his embrace und slid away from him to make himself comfortable leaning against the headboard again.

“Get up.” Geralt pointed at a spot in front of the bed. Then he joined Eskel by the head of the bed. Eskel’s pupils were blown wide and he observed every movement of Lambert who now leaped down the bed.

“Now undress. Put on a show for us.” With that Geralt clasped his hands behind his head and eyed Lambert intensely, but the other witcher did absolutely nothing.

“Move or we’ll have to come for you. And it won’t be to your liking.”

With his arms crossed in front of his chest Lambert turned around to look at Eskel and Geralt; his face showed a brazen grin. His cheeks were flushed.

“I’m literally shaking with fear. Make me do it, _Geralt_.” He jutted his chin challenging.

There was a wanton look in Geralt’s face as he slid from the bed and walked predatory slowly to the stubborn man awaiting him.

“Why isn’t it easy with you for once, slave?” There was an amused twitch in the corner of his mouth. The truth was it wasn’t half the fun the easy way.

Lambert swallowed hard, his hands fell to his sides and he took up a strong position.


	3. Breaking resistance

The firelight cast shadows in Geralt’s face and combined with his glimmering cat eyes he truly looked like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. His strong fingers flexed and he slowly put one foot in front of the other; his gaze never left Lambert’s face. Although he was only wearing his smalls he looked intimidating and glorious.

Grinning Lambert observed Geralt’s movement and drew back unhurriedly, and soon they were circling each other. Eskel stayed calmly on the mattress and watched both men.

“Last chance, puppy. Do as I said.” Geralt’s voice sounded relaxed. He knew full well that Lambert wouldn’t surrender that easily, but he wanted to give him at least the opportunity to do so.

The younger man didn’t fail his expectation and only showed Geralt a rude gesture. From the bed they heard Eskel’s snort and Lambert grinned smugly.

Without further warning Geralt indeed literally _pounced_ on Lambert or at least tried. The younger man spun and jumped out of his way almost gracefully. He had trained with the witchers of the Cat School every now and then and learned their fighting techniques. The Cats weren’t bulky as the Wolf witchers and their fighting style was more like a deadly dance.

So it was a back and forth between Lambert and Geralt. Finally Geralt caught Lambert’s tunic, pulled the other close and tackled him. They wrestled on the ground for a while; sometimes Geralt had Lambert pinned under him and was starting to unlace his breeches or rip his shirt, but Lambert always wiggled free and attacked again. They were even, when it came to fighting without any Signs or weaponry; that much was clear.

But Lambert did one major mistake: while their wrestling was mostly fun and games he completely forgot about Eskel.

The huge witcher slipped silently to his feet and approached the two other men on the ground from behind. Lambert crawled backwards, away from Geralt, his chest and stomach were already bare and his shirt was torn to shreds. The laces of his breeches were half-undone and only barely held the fabric together.

Suddenly there were strong hands around Lambert’s throat and neck yanking him back.

“Ah! What the–“ He choked and reached for the hands and tried to pluck them away, but they were like iron claws and the fingers didn’t even flinch. There was no other choice than following the movement – either he was rolling onto his front like Eskel wanted him to or he ceased breathing.

Settled Lambert took a moment to catch his breath. He heard the thuds of bare feet walking to them – Lambert flat on the ground, Eskel kneeling next him with his hands still around the younger’s neck– then Geralt yanked Lambert’s hips slightly upwards, so he could undo his breeches properly und pull them down roughly.

“Leave me be, both of you!” Lambert struggled against the other men and spread his legs so his breeches couldn’t be hauled down, and tried to shove Eskel away.

“Behave, toy!” Rumbled Eskel. He put one of his hands between Lambert’s shoulder blades and pushed him down.

“Fuck off!” Lambert hissed. He heard a sigh from behind him, but it was clearly an amused one, and then the tearing of fabric.

As soon as his arse was bare Geralt swatted both cheeks once. Lambert gasped at the heavy strikes.

Then Geralt ripped the trousers apart just so, pushed down Lambert’s spread legs and straddled his calves.

“I liked these, you bitch!”

More heavy swats to his bottom were the answer from Geralt, while Eskel pushed one knee into Lambert’s small of the back, changed the grip of his hands and dragged Lambert’s hands behind his back.

“Bitch?” Eskel reached between Lambert’s legs, cupped his balls and squeezed; his fingertips skimmed over the hardness of his cock. Lambert moaned. “That’s rich, coming from the one pressed to the floor presenting his bare arse!”

“I’m not fucking presenting anything, you– Hng! Fuck!” Lambert cursed, when Eskel yanked his arms upwards.

But all his swearing and cocky replies didn’t distract from the thick odour of arousal coming from Lambert and flooding the whole room. It was spicy and appetizing and mingled with the scents of the other two Wolves.

The spicy aroma spiked as two calloused warm hands kneaded Lambert’s arse firmly.

“Mh, but your scent tells otherwise. Tells me you like being presented like that, like a bitch in heat.” Lambert moaned at Geralt’s statement. Geralt inhaled. “Smells like a cheap whore, our baby wolf.”

Lambert squirmed and writhed full force, but Eskel yanked at his arms harshly again, and he hissed in pain.

“I said _behave_!”

The weight on his calves vanished and Lambert heard Geralt went in the direction of the fireplace.

Eskel didn’t allow Lambert to focus on the other witcher and swatted his arse again, but significantly harder than Geralt did. Lambert gasped, his cheek burned.

“Concentrate on the man sitting on your back, not on the one out of reach. Haven’t you learned anything in your training, boy?” Eskel leaned down with most of his weight and Lambert panted under the large witcher.

Everybody knowing the witchers of the Wolf School would agree, that Eskel was the gentlest of them, when it came to interaction with people in general.

But in bed he was the roughest among them. Not that Geralt was particularly gentle with Lambert in nights like this, but usually he was more of a softy in bed than all the other Wolves and loved snuggling and cuddling and _love-making_.

Eskel’s roughness could even turn into ruthlessness, if his bedpartner wished and was amenable. And boy, was Lambert amenable to it!

The weight on his back shifted, so Lambert could breathe normally again, and now Eskel was squatting halfway on and beside him. Lambert grinned unseen from Eskel. Rookie mistake.

“I’ve learned enough.” Ignoring the painful stretch in his arms he rolled in Eskel’s direction with all his might. He didn’t came far, but it was enough for Eskel to lose his balance and the grip around Lambert’s arms untightened.

Eskel cursed as Lambert leapt to his feet. He stood and acted self-confident and not like a naked man with a hard-on. He shook his arms and shoulders and teased Eskel with a smug smile and a gesture that said _come at me, don’t let me wait_. Eskel also got to his feet snarling like the wolf on his medallion. “Come back here and yield.”

But there was a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

Lambert shook his head silently.

Catching and forcing Lambert under their command was part of the game and they all liked it.

Geralt stood behind Eskel with something in his hands, but he didn’t move and just observed the scene. Lambert didn’t dare to look at him properly and fully concentrated on the man in front of him.

It wasn’t easy to goad Eskel into attacking. He was patient. He took a fighting position and just waited looking at Lambert. Eskel knew he only had to wait long enough and his brother would attack him.

He was right. After just a few moments Lambert dashed to him. Eskel was about to catch him, but Lambert avoided the strong hands by pirouetting around his opponent and putting him in a headlock. Geralt froze just like Eskel did and Lambert gasped in shock. In eight out of ten training fights Lambert was not able to defeat Eskel.

Lambert’s triumph lasted exactly two breaths.

Eskel took one step back, so he stood slightly behind Lambert. One of his hands snaked around the other man, gripped his free arm tightly and opened Lambert’s hold around his neck with his other hand simultaneously.

Eskel straightened his back and knocked his palm against Lambert’s chin roughly. Lambert’s head snapped back and he stumbled, so he wasn’t able to react to Eskel’s elbow hitting his chest.

Eskel pushed him and Lambert stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall. One of his hands came to rest high on Lambert’s chest between his collarbones and pinned the younger witcher.

Then Eskel slapped Lambert, so his head flung to one side. Lambert moaned. Eskel gripped Lambert’s hair, yanked his head back and slapped him again wordlessly. While he repeated the slapping, Geralt came and stood next to him watching with dark eyes; they literally caged Lambert with their bodies now.

“I must say I’m impressed.” Eskel didn’t stop to slap the caged man as Geralt spoke. “But that’s not how a good slave behaves, I think we all agree on that.” Eskel grunted his consent and hit Lambert especially hard the next time. His head lolled to the side and he grabbed Eskel’s forearm to stabilize himself. He turned his head back to the two witchers in front of him and nodded weakly.

“This is why I changed my mind about that.” Geralt lifted his hand and showed his brethren the thing he took from the chest. It was as long as Geralt’s hand and five to six centimetres at the widest part.

Lambert had never seen this and had no idea what it was, but Eskel showed a knowing expression. Lambert took a proper look. The wood thing was polished and shiny, conical and behind its widest part it was smaller and the bottom was flat. Puzzled he looked back to Geralt who moved the thing to Lambert’s cock and balls and rubbed them with it. The precum Lambert was heavily shedding eased the glide. Lambert shuddered.

“Focus, slave! What could it be?” Geralt teased and pushed the wood thing behind Lambert’s balls. He pressed it between Lambert’s thighs and buttcheeks and smirked as the younger man gasped and obviously got the message.

“Usually one needs lots of oil to use it properly, but alas!” Geralt took the toy away. “That’s only for good little puppies. Yield now and I’ll use at least spit as slick. Otherwise–”

Lambert only panted and stared at Geralt and Eskel in turns. Geralt didn’t expect Lambert to give in so easily and he wasn’t disappointed by him, since Lambert jutted his chin at both of them and growled. Eskel snorted.

In a flash Eskel pulled his hand from Lambert’s chest, raised his other hand and backhanded Lambert so hard he fell to the ground. Lambert’s head was spinning and he tasted blood in his mouth. He pushed himself to his knees and grinned. _Now, we’re talking!_

“Fucking finally!”

Geralt and Eskel were on him in an instant. Eskel held his neck and pushed his head down, and Geralt knelt behind Lambert and pushed his legs apart. There were hands pulling his buttcheeks apart roughly. Lambert struggled, but obviously the other two witchers stopped to banter with him. Eskel stilled Lambert by simply clutching his hips vicelike and pressing his face into the floor with one foot on his cheek.

“Shut up, slave.” He rumbled.

Lambert opened his mouth to tell Eskel where he could shove his _shut up_ , but in the very same moment a blunt digit pressed against his hole and inside until the knuckle touched his skin. The slight stretch was nice, although the finger was dry and it burned and teared at his rim. Lambert shivered and compressed his lips to muffle his moan.

“Hear that, Eskel? Our slut likes that.” Lambert shivered again at the humiliating name. “I’ll give you more, don’t worry.”

The finger disappeared and Lambert felt something else – something presumably made of polished wood – nudging his rim. A second later it breached the muscle and sank deeper. Geralt pulled it out a bit and pushed it inside again and slowly fucked Lambert open with it.

It didn’t hurt at first, because all in all it wasn’t bigger than the digit before, but all too soon it got wider and burned as hell. Lambert squirmed as much as he could in Eskel’s ironlike grip. Thankfully Eskel took his foot away, so breathing wasn’t a problem.

The sounds Lambert made ranged between moans and whines. He pressed his forehead against the floor and focused on his breathing. With every shuddering breath the plug sank deeper. Eventually Lambert felt like he couldn’t withstand the painful stretch anymore and reached for his cock to stroke it.

“No! Don’t think you earned that.” Geralt batted his hand away and pressed the plug faster inside. The widest part slid inside with a cry from Lambert; his body clenched around the wood. Geralt pulled it out again, oh so slowly as the widest part passed the rim, and Lambert whimpered.

“Please, Sir.” He begged for he didn’t know what.

Eskel snorted. “Now he finally remembers his manners. But you haven’t earned any reward.” He put his hand over Geralt’s and with one harsh thrust the plug was shoved up to the hilt into Lambert.

Suddenly without Eskel’s steadying hold around his hips Lambert landed on his stomach and writhed. He tried to move forward, but Eskel followed him, kept pushing the plug deep inside and held it there.

“Sir, please, it’s too much, please.” Lambert begged again between gasps for air. It felt like flashes shooting down his nerves. He saw stars.

“You’ll take everything we give you. All of it. You don’t get to decide when I‘m done.” He moved the wood inside, pulled at it until the widest part popped out and thrust it inside mercilessly.

Lambert crept forward until there were two warm hands, one on each of his shoulders, holding him back. Geralt and Eskel hunkered down on his left and right side.

Geralt’s other hand was in his smallclothes and he stroked himself fast while he was watching Eskel striking Lambert’s butt repeatedly. Half of his swats hit the plug and Lambert yelped each time when this happened.

“Please stop it, please. I can’t– I– I’m gonna–“ Lambert felt his balls draw tight and a tingle raced up his spine. The last things he sensed, before came with a surprised shout, were Geralt’s deep grunt and a warm fluid splattering on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the endless back and forth between Lambert and the other two, but Lambert submitting himself fast and easily didn't felt right for me.
> 
> Also... where were the fun in that? ;-)


End file.
